


Traitors Will Pay

by enjoltaire_feels_man



Category: Les Miserables
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-07-21
Packaged: 2017-12-08 21:18:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enjoltaire_feels_man/pseuds/enjoltaire_feels_man
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kind of an alternative ending to Les Miserables. The surviving barricade boys are sent to a French Prison and tortured until they surrender. (By the way, this a prologue, there will be a chapter for each featured character and a short outro)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intro

It had been a week since the barricade.  
It had been a very long week since the barricade.  
No one honestly thought that they would be imprisoned, they all thought surrender or death, most likely the latter.  
But that's not what the French had in store for them.  
The remaining survivors from their barricade had been captured, although they had killed most of them already.  
Marius, Enjolras, Grantaire, Courfeyrac, Combeferre, Joly, and Jehan were the only ones left. Most had died, and many tears had been spent on them. But now, the concern was of whether or not they would all be killed, one by one, or something worse.  
They had been transported here, to this 'prison' of sorts, and had been locked by the pairs in small cells.  
Enjolras and Grantaire in one; Courfeyrac and Jehan in the next; Combeferre and Joly in the next; and lastly, Marius, all alone in the far cell.  
They were given scarce amounts of food and water. Most of the water they received was what had dripped off the stone walls in the cells.  
Sleep was also scarce, each man taking turns sleeping, watching out for the other while they slept.  
The only measure of time was when the guards came walking down every hour or so, making sure they were all there.   
The men wondered if this was how the rest of their life's were to be played out, but that would have been better than the hell to come.


	2. Part 1: Marius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of an alternative ending to Les Miserables. The surviving barricade boys are sent to a French Prison and tortured until they surrender. (By the way, this is part 1, about Marius, there will be a chapter for each featured character and a short outro)

Marius had been somewhat soundly sleeping in his cell, Combeferre in the next cell, watching not only Marius, but Joly as well, making sure he was somewhat safe, (well, as safe as you could be in a place like this) when a guard had smacked his baton on the rusty bars of his cell.  
Marius sat upright, breathing heavily at being startled awake.  
"Good, you're awake." The guard said in a gruff voice. "Come 'ere, you're going with me."  
The guard unlocked the cell door, opening the door with a creak. He grabbed Marius, putting chains on his wrists and pushing him forward in front of him, closing the cell door behind him.  
Marius looked nervously behind him at his equally confused before the guard shoved him forward.  
They walked silently down the winding hallway, Marius at first tried to memorize the hallways path, but soon couldn't remember a damn thing and gave up.  
He was shoved forward and fell right on his face in a small room, with a man in it. The man looked like he owned the place, and for all Marius know, he might have. Marius sat up, sitting slightly awkwardly on the cold stone floor.  
The man stood over Marius, looking at him thoroughly before speaking, "You must be the one they call Marius."  
Marius remained silent, not even looking the man in the eye.  
"Alright you should not speak, let alone look at me."  
Marius's eyes remained glued to the floor, gulping, "What are you going to do to me?" Marius said tentatively, thinking back to when they were first captured. Enjolras had said, "Whatever you do, no matter what they do to you, or anyone else, do not break, whatever happens."  
The man chuckled, "You know, you're a very handsome young men, I bet you had girls fall for you left and right, huh? Like that dear girl I shot at the barricade."  
Marius's head shot up, staring at the man, "You-you killed Eponine?"  
The man chuckled darkly, "So that was the dear things name. But I could tell that she was not your's, eh? I bet you had another girl, what was her name? Seeing as you didn't care about that dear little thing. You should have seen the look in her eyes when I pulled the trigger," The man said, holding up his hands as though holding a gun. "The look in her eyes was one of pure love and adoration, but you were clearly to blind to see that."  
"You take that back." Marius said, somehow getting up into standing position.  
The man chuckled darkly once more, "Whoa, whoa there. You never answered my question. What was your 'lover girls' name, eh? Something soft and delicate," He said with a flourish. "Probably like her." He moved his hands as though snapping a twig.  
Marius clenched his hands in fists behind his back. "Don't ever talk about my dear Cosette like that."  
"What are you going to do if I don't?"  
Marius opened his mouth to retort, but he closed it after realizing, what could he do?  
The man smiled, "Good, good, simmer down there boy. Cosette, what a lovely name. She does indeed sound soft and delicate, gentle even."  
There was a brief silence before the man continued.  
"Now, to decide how to make you break,"  
"You'll never break me."  
"Then that settles it, I'll just kill you."  
Marius realized what he had said and his eyes went wide with fear, but he kept his head held high. "I will die for my country and my people."  
The man laughed, "This is not your country, nor are these your people. You're such a foolish boy. I bet if you would have never met that group of boys you would have never tried to over throw your leader."  
"That king is hardly a leader."  
"I think I should just let you go, you silly boy with your lovely lady back home, waiting at her door for you, weeping for you even."  
Marius looked at the man in the eye, staring him down before the man said to the guard in the corner, "Release him."  
The guard unchained him, letting his hands free, "Follow me." The guard said, leading the way out.  
Marius followed him out, the man led him out of the prison down a few more hallways. The sunlight hit Marius's skin, he squinted in the bright light, having not seen it in days.  
"Go down that road, follow it and in a days time, you'll be back to your town. Any funny business, and we will shoot."  
Marius nodded and began walking down the road, walking out and away from the prison, taking one last look at the prison before walking off to his dear Cosette.  
******  
Marius arrived in the town shortly after nightfall. He had not eaten in some time but didn't really care.  
He was going to see his dear Cosette once more and wanted to so badly he went straight to the building he knew her and her papa were staying at.  
He went up to their room, knocking on the wooden door shakily. The door creaked open, having already been left open, which had seemed slightly strange.  
"Cosette? My love? Where are you?" He walked into all the rooms, not seeing her anywhere, but seeing her possessions lying around here and there.  
He walked into the back room, pushing open the door.  
He saw Cosette, laying in her bed, as though sleeping. He smiled slightly and sitting on the side of her bed.  
"Cosette, my darling," He said, gently shaking her. "Wake up my dear." He reached for one of her hands, and grabbed it, holding it.  
Upon holding her hand, he knew something was wrong, her skin was cold as ice. "Cosette," He said, shaking her, tears forming in his eyes. He kept shaking her, more and more violently.  
Her blanket slid down just enough for Marius to see a bit of red on her white nightgown.  
White, for purity.  
He pulled down the blanket and saw a rather large red circle on her chest.  
Red, for blood.  
She had been shot in her bed, while she was sleeping, the blankets pulled up over the wound that had sucked the very life out of the delicate creature.  
So Marius wept for his dear Cosette, his love, his life, his everything.  
He was crying so loud that he couldn't hear the closet door creep open.  
He didn't hear the hammer on the gun being pulled back.  
He didn't hear the gunfire until it was upon him.  
He fell forward, falling right on Cosette's dead body.  
He felt the blood filling his lung, rising into his throat. He turned and saw the man from before.  
The man at the prison.  
"Thank you for telling me your dear lover's name. Now I know that you too will still be together. Forever. Just like the vow that was made."  
Marius saw spots in his vision, he felt the shear pain in his back, but all that mattered was Cosette.  
Reunited.  
Then his world turned black.  
Black, for evil.  
Then his world ended


	3. Part 2: Enjolras

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of an alternative ending to Les Miserables. The surviving barricade boys are sent to a French Prison and tortured until they surrender. (By the way, this is part 2, about Enjolras, there will be a chapter for each featured character and a short outro)

Enjolras was woken when he heard a guard pulling Marius away. He saw the look in Marius's eyes, and just knew that Marius wasn't going to come back.  
He glanced over at the rest of the men, who were probably thinking the same thing as him.  
They sat in silence for a minute before Joly said, "He's not going to come back, is he?"  
His question was answered with silence, which was as good an answer as any.  
"I wonder how they are going to kill each of us." Courfeyrac said. "I wonder if they'll shoot me, like, Eponine or Bossuet, or, or, Gavroche." He said, his voice breaking at the mention of Gavroche.  
Everyone knew how close he was to the boy, he was somewhat of a father figure to Gavroche even. Sure, they all had cared for little Gavroche, but not nearly as much as Courfeyrac had.  
Jehan was holding Courfeyrac as he cried, shushing him ever so slightly so as not to alert the guards.  
Courfeyrac may have looked tough from the outside, but he was delicate and soft on the inside, Enjolras was most worried about him breaking out of all the men.  
For the life of him, Enjolras couldn't think of anything to say. So he just sat in corner of his cell, barely looking up.  
Grantaire came over to Enjolras, gently putting his hand on his shoulder.  
"I know you blame yourself. I know you think it is all your fault for," He motioned his hand. "All of this. But, I swear it's not. We all said that we would fight, just because you were our leader, does not mean you are at fault."  
Enjolras kept his eyes glued to the floor, not daring to look up at him. Not being able to bear seeing the cuts and bruises that littered his face from the guards beating him senseless for insulting the king.  
"Hey," Grantaire said, putting his hand under Enjolras's chin, lifting his face up so they were looking each other in the eye. "It's not your fault, I promise."  
"But it is," Enjolras said, gently pushing his hand away. "None of you would be here if it weren't for me. You're all going to die on at my hands."  
Grantaire placed his hand back where it was. "No, it's not. I will keep saying it until you believe it you foolish boy."  
"You will sooner lose your voice than convince me otherwise."  
Grantaire chuckled. "I don't know what you mean. I think that I can convince you. After all, you said I would never be sober, but look at me now! Sober at last, and at your hands!"  
Enjolras laughed, "But not in the way I imagined."  
"Dear Enjy, you need not worry about things you can not change or do anything about."  
"I told you not to call me Enjy how many times now?"  
"Too many."  
They smiled at one another before Grantaire suddenly leaned in and pressed his lips against Enjolras's. Enjolras was shocked, not quite knowing how to respond simply because, well, he didn't really kiss men.  
Scratch that, Enjolras didn't really kiss at all.  
He never felt a need for those petty emotions getting in the way of his goals.  
But now, now it was different, now he didn't have to worry about what others would say or do. He didn't have to worry about his goals or dreams, because he was going to die soon, he knew it.  
So he found himself kissing back.  
He found his hands being pushed into Grantaire's hair.  
But, he also found Grantaire pulling away.  
Then he saw the guard outside of the cell.  
He chuckled, "Are you two lovers done there?"  
They moved apart, almost pushing one another away.  
"So, I was told to tell all of you our plan with your dear friend, Marius. You see, we are going to tell him that we are letting him go after he says the name of his beloved lady, then we are going to release him and find his lady, shoot her and have him find her body and then kill him."  
Enjlras almost choked at this. Sure, he wasn't team Cosette, but he never wanted her to die, that's for sure.  
Another death on his hands.  
******  
It had been several hours since the guard had told them of their plan with Marius and Enjolras had been struck mute by the monstrosity of the men here.  
Now two of the guards had come over and opened the door to Enjolras and Grantaire's cell and ushered the two of them out, in a little row like ducklings following their mother. Grantaire was a shaking mess, gulping and wringing his hands together nervously.  
Enjolras reached over and grabbed one of his hands, squeezing it reassuringly.  
"As long as I am living, I won't let them hurt you."  
"That's what I'm worried about."  
One of the guards pushed his gun against Grantaire's back, right between his shoulder blades, hushing him.  
They followed the first guard down the winding hallway, Enjolras refusing to let go of Grantaire's hand.  
They were lead to a good sized room, not to small, but not to big either. Inside the room was a man, he looked big and strong, both physically and mentally. He stood with his arms behind his back, his legs about shoulder width apart. His head was held high and shoulders set back, looking very regal and confident.  
"Well, well, well. The lover boys I see. The 'leader'" the man used air quotes. "of sorts, Enjolras and the drunk, Grantaire, I believe." Grantaire gulped once more, still holding Enjolras's hand, refusing to let go.  
"I see, you're both quite like your friend Marius, strong and silent. He learned his lesson in time. He is currently lying over his lover's dead body. I assume you two will die in the same way, as you seem to never release one another."  
The two men remained silent, looking at the ground, not the cold hearted man in front of them.  
The man looked over at the two guards, he nodded his head. The two guards grabbed Enjolras, ripping him from his dearest and pushing him over to the wall, where they put metal cuffs on Enjolras's wrist and ankles.  
Enjolras struggled, pushing and kicking against the two guards. The man just laughed at his struggles that everyone in the little room knew were in vain.  
Grantaire ran forward and beat at one of the guards back, "Let him alone!"  
The guard moved his arms back, swatting him away like a mosquito. He fell backwards, his body hitting the ground with a painful smacking sound.  
This only made Enjolras struggle more. But he was already restrained, it was pointless to struggle. But that didn't stop him.  
The man laughed once more before looking at the guards and saying, "Restrain the drunk, I want him to watch what's about to happen." He said with a smirk.  
The two guards each grabbed one of Grantaire's arms, holding him up so that he was looking right at his dear Apollo.  
The man grabbed Enjolras's shirt, ripping off the tattered remains of his shirt so that his bare skin was exposed to the cool air in the dank room.  
Grantaire was breathing so heavily, he was almost hyperventilating. Tears were already pricking at his eyes, though the worst was still to come.  
The man pulled a rather large knife out of his jacket pocket, playing with the tip across Enjolras's skin, not piercing it.  
"Hmm, what shall I crave into your skin, hm. Shall I call you a traitor, a sinner, a rebel, a sneak, a betrayer-"  
"You won't touch him!" Grantaire cut in. One of the guards hit him in the back of the head with a baton, in an attempt to silence him.  
The guard gave a cold laugh before continuing. "I have to think of something good for when we hang your body up at the cafe were you foolish boys planned your 'revolution'. I think traitor would be the best now."  
So the guard put the knife in Enjolras's skin, on his lean stomach, just below his right ribs. He started the first letter, a capital 'T'. Enjolras screamed out in pain. "NO!" Grantaire screamed, pushing against the men.  
The man drew out the letters painfully slowly, pushing the knife in a hair farther for each scream Enjolras made.  
Tears fell down Enjolras's cheeks, trying to stay as silent as possible to lessen the depth of the knife.  
He pulled out the knife, starting again in a new spot. Grantaire was screaming and kicking and punching and doing everything he could to try and rush to his lovers side.  
The man finished the first letter, pulling back the bloody knife. "Now, we shall pick up tomorrow where we left off."  
The guards let go of Grantaire, undoing the chains on Enjolras's wrist and ankles.  
They bandaged his wound and brought the two men back to the cell.  
When they arrived back, the rest of the men were staring at them. Enjolras realized that they had probably heard Grantaire screaming, seeing as it wasn't too far away from the cells.  
The guards practically threw the two of them into the room and locked the cell door behind them.  
Grantaire jumped up and went to the cell door, screaming at them, "You'll all burn in hell for this!"  
He went back to Enjolras, who was still bleeding, but not nearly as bad as before. "Are you alright?" Joly said from two cells away, "What happened?"  
"They are going to torture him, they are going to crave the word 'Traitor' into his skin, one letter a day." Grantaire said, punching the stone wall rather hard.  
"Grantaire," Enjolras said, panting. "Stop. You are at no fault."  
Grantaire sat down in the corner, crying. "R...please, talk to me." Enjolras said, tears forming in his eyes, holding his still bleeding side.  
"Come 'ere," Jehan said from the next cell over. Enjolras scooted across the floor towards Jehan, gasping in pain with each slide.  
When Enjolras was right by the bars, Jehan said, "I may not be a medic, but let me look at it."  
Enjolras pulled back the bandages some and Jehan turned green at the sight of it, putting his hand over his mouth in a silent gasp.  
"I can see why R was screaming when he saw this. Good lord, I just..." Joly craned his neck to see from the next cell over, he then proceeded to tell Jehan what to do until Jehan was at his emotional limit, then telling Courfeyrac what to do.  
Enjolras cried the whole time, and so did Grantaire, in the same cell, but what seemed like worlds away.  
******  
Each day they carved another letter into Enjolras's skin, the pain was worse and worse each time.  
The knife went into his skin farther and farther each time.  
Each time it was harder and harder not to scream.  
Each time it was harder and harder for Jehan and Courfeyrac to try to heal him.  
Each time he felt that he was closer to the edge, closer to death than last time.  
The letters so far were T, R, A, I, T, and O, one more letter, one more day before he was to be killed.  
Grantaire came over to Enjolras the day before he knew they were going to kill him.  
"I'm sorry Enjolras, for how I used to treat you, for how I didn't help each time we came back from the torture session. Lastly, I'm sorry for not telling how much I love you until now." He said, his voice cracking on the last word, he threw his arms around Enjolras, being careful of his injuries.  
"I love you too, Grantaire. I don't blame you. Everything is going to be alright in the end." Enjolras said, hugging Grantaire back, kissing the top of his head.  
They held one another for a few more minutes, crying and kissing.  
They both knew tomorrow was their last day, well, at least it was Enjolras's, who knows when they were going to kill Grantaire.  
They fell asleep in each other's arms, and waited until the inevitable morning.  
******  
When the time finally came for the final torture session, Enjolras and Grantaire walked out hand in hand, nodding at the rest of the men. The men nodded back, knowing that this was the last time they were going to see them alive.  
They walked down the all too familiar hallway, going into the room for the last time, hopefully. The man was there, as usual, holding his big knife, as usual.  
Nothing looked out of the ordinary, but it was all different today.  
The guards restrained Enjolras once more, Grantaire protesting as usual.  
He used the knife and began to slowly carve out the R.  
Enjolras saw no point in trying to restrain himself from screaming, the pain was unbearable, his body arched away from the knife, but couldn't go far to get away from the cold knife.  
He was writhing in pain, and Grantaire was fighting and screaming, he couldn't bear to see his Apollo in such pain.  
No matter how many times they did this, it didn't make it any easier to watch.  
After 20 minutes of agonizing pain, he had finished the last letter.  
"Now, now, we're not quite done yet." The man said.  
He went back through the old letters, reopening them very slowly as well.  
The pain that came with reopening the former wounds was almost worse than when they were first opened.  
He screamed and screamed, his voice almost hoarse already.  
Tears stained Grantaire's checks as he sobbed for Enjolras, fighting the guards still.  
Quite some time later, the man finished reopening Enjolras's wounds.  
"Now, now, we need proper punctuation, don't we?"  
and with that, the man plunged the knife into Enjolras's skin, just after the last R.  
He drove it so far into Enjolras's skin, that the hilt of the long knife was flush with Enjolras's pale skin.  
Grantaire screamed the loudest scream that any person had every uttered.  
The guards released Grantaire, he rushed to Enjolras's side, tears flooding his face.  
"I love you so much, Grantaire."  
"Please don't leave me like this, please don't ever leave me."  
"I...love...you...so...much...Grantaire."  
"Please, Enjy, no, you can't, not like this."  
Enjolras opened his eyes just enough to look at Grantaire's face, "I'll see you soon."  
Then Enjolras closed his eyes, and his world ended, with his entire world weeping beside him.


	4. Part 3: Grantaire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of an alternative ending to Les Miserables. The surviving barricade boys are sent to a French Prison and tortured until they surrender. (By the way, this is part 3, about Grantaire, there will be a chapter for each featured character and a short outro)

Grantaire was still sobbing beside Enjolras's dead body when the guards pulled him away. He was fighting them, screaming and kicking like a toddler having a temper tantrum.  
They pulled him away and pushed him against another wall, his feet dangling off the floor.  
Eventually, he quieted down enough for the man to speak to him.  
"Now, now, his pain is over, why are you so upset?"  
"Because he's dead now you bastard!" Grantaire screamed, spitting in the man's face.  
The man chuckled, wiping his face off, "Wait till you hear what you have to do."  
Grantaire gulped, trying to control his breathing to a somewhat normal level.  
The man brought his face dangerously close to Grantaire's face. "Go, release the boy's lover." He said to a guard. The guard went over to Enjolras and unlocked his wrists and ankles, just like every time before, after the torture session was over.  
Grantaire had collapsed on the ground, hyperventilating, the man was squatted down, eye level with Grantaire.  
"Go, retrieve your lovers body."  
Grantaire looked at the man, slightly confused. "Huh?"  
"I said, go get your lovers body, carry him over to me."  
Grantaire shakily stood up and walked over to Enjolras. As he had been chained to the wall, he was now lying crumpled on the ground, dirt all over his face, but his blue eyes glazed over, looking as though they were made of glass.  
Grantaire tucked a loose hair away from Enjolras's face and slide his fingers over his eyelids, so he wouldn't have to stare at those eyes, like he so often used to.  
He picked him up, carrying the man bridal style, gently laying a kiss on his forehead. He stood up and walked over to the man, Enjolras sleeping in his arms.  
"Good, good, now, I want you to carry his body down the hall to your friends, show them what will become of them."  
"But, but, I-I couldn't do that. Please, don't make me."  
"Do as I say."  
Grantaire felt tears forming in his eyes again, after he had just stopped crying. He walked out the door to the cells where the rest of the men were, the man following close behind.  
The men looked surprised to see Grantaire returning, but then saw Enjolras curled up in his arms. All four of them stood up, rushing to the cell door, looking at Enjolras.  
"Put his feet down, let them see him." The man said.  
Grantaire obeyed, he held up Enjolras's top half. The men gasped out at the sight of Enjolras, the knife still in him.  
"Tell them what I told you."  
Grantaire gulped, trying (but not succeeding) in choking back tears. "This is what will become of all of you."  
"Good, good, bring him closer to them so they can get a better look at him."  
Grantaire brought Enjolras forward to the cell door so the men could see Enjolras better. Blood soaked his skin, so it was hard to read the word written across his skin.  
"Well, come on, wipe some of the blood off so that they can read it."  
"It's quite alright, we get the point." Combeferre said.  
The man pursed his lips, "Go on Grantaire, let them see what you've witnessed."  
Tears fell down Grantaire cheeks, leaving trails in the dirt on his face. He used his raggedy sleeve and wiped off some of the blood on Enjolras's stomach. The men could clearly read the word 'TRAITOR' across his skin, the knife still sticking out of his skin, the black hilt contrasting greatly with his pale skin.  
"Good, good, now, pick him back up, we're going out."  
Grantaire nodded, tears still falling down his face, and picked up Enjolras gently, following the man down the hallway and out of the building itself.  
"Now, we are going to walk to town, alright?"  
Grantaire nodded and they began the walk towards the town. It was going to be a very long journey, but that meant Grantaire had a little longer to live, and he wasn't sure if he was happy or not about this fact.  
The man, the two guards, and Grantaire, still carrying Enjolras, walked and walked for hours and hours without stopping once, in that time, the weight of Enjolras seemed to have doubled, it was getting harder and harder to carry him.  
"Please, can we, take a, break?"  
"No, we can't stop if we plan to get there before nightfall."  
"Please..."  
The man answered by continuing to walk, not so much as faltering in his steps.  
Grantaire sighed, shifting Enjolras's weight in his arms and continued walking.  
Within a few hours, they had made it to town, upon seeing town, Grantaire's stomach was full of dread. They continued walking into the town itself.  
They walked past places that Enjolras had given speeches, places where Enjolras had been seen many times asking people to join him, places where Enjolras had ran into the middle of a parade of sorts, waving a red flag and singing.  
Grantaire tried to block out these memories, but they pounded and pushed at his every pore, refusing to go down and never be thought of again.  
Within a few minutes, they were at the ABC Cafe, where all of this talk of revolution had started. It looked just the same as before the barricade. The barricade itself was gone, the blood was cleaned off the streets. The only difference was that the Cafe and street were more empty than usual.  
The man pulled a section of rope out of his pocket, tossing it at Grantaire. "I want you to tie his body to the door of the cafe, so that everyone can see what happens to traitors like him."  
Grantaire was shaking, he picked up the rope and tied only his wrist up on the post of the door. His arms were outstretched like a god, his head lolling to the side.  
"Open his eyes."  
Grantaire felt tears falling down his face and slid his fingers of Enjolras's face, opening his blue eyes.  
"Good, good, now he can also watch your fate."  
The two guards pulled out their batons, and began to beat Grantaire's body.  
Grantaire collapsed, the guards proceeded to kicking him while he was down. Grantaire instinctively curled up, trying to protect his already weak body from the guards.  
This made not only the man, but the two guards laugh. The man pulled the knife out of Enjolras and proceeded to slash it over Grantaire's body while the guards beat him with batons.  
His body was gashed and bloody and bruised all over, but he still wasn't dead.  
But he wanted to be.  
He wanted to be with his dear Apollo once more.  
He got his wish when the man's knife went over Grantaire's neck.  
He was bleeding much worse now, his skin felt like it was on fire.  
The blood quickly drained out of his body, and the last thing he ever saw was Enjolras, standing in front of him, holding out his pale hand.  
"I said I would see you soon, didn't I?"


	5. Part 4: Joly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of an alternative ending to Les Miserables. The surviving barricade boys are sent to a French Prison and tortured until they surrender. (By the way, this is part 4, about Joly, there will be a chapter for each featured character and a short outro)

Joly was rather shaken up by seeing Enjolras, Combeferre seemed to notice this because he had told the man that they didn't need to see the word across his skin.  
He shakily sat down on the cold stone floor, trying to get Enjolras out of his mind.  
What were they going to do to Grantaire?  
What would become of the rest of them?  
Only the four men remained, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Jehan, and of course Joly.  
It was as though they were picking them out one by one. They were without a leader now. The men that would probably have taken over if something were to happen to Enjolras were dead or soon to be now.  
So who was 'in charge' now?  
Would it be Combeferre? Probably. Although Courfeyrac and Jehan were good men, they were better followers than leaders.  
"Looks like you’re in charge now Combeferre." Joly mumbled.  
"No, I was thinking that you would probably be the leader actually." Combeferre said.  
"Maybe we should vote on it." Joly said.  
"It doesn't matter," Jehan said, usually so optimistic. "We're all just as well as dead now."  
"Don't say that." Joly said.  
"Why? We were all thinking it anyways!" Courfeyrac said, siding (as usual) with Jehan.  
"We just have to hope for the best, that's all that we can do now." Joly said, trying not to get too mad at them.  
"Well it's not good enough!" Jehan shouted, standing back up and punching the wall with a painful crunching noise. He shrieked out in pain.  
"Look what's become of us!" Combeferre said. "We're turning against each other!"  
"Come 'ere, Jehan, let me look at your hand." Joly said, trying to calm down.  
"No," Jehan grumbled.  
"Babe, come on, let Joly look at it." Courfeyrac said, getting up and gently leading him over to the bar that separated their cells.  
Jehan sighed and sat down by the bars. Joly reached through the bars and gently held Jehan's swollen hand. It was defiantly broken, but Joly didn't say that right away so as not to upset Jehan anymore than he already was.  
He looked around and saw a stick in the corner, "Combeferre, could you get me that stick."  
Combeferre nodded and grabbed it, passing it to Joly.  
He ripped off some of his remaining shirt, he used the stick as a makeshift splint and tied it to Jehan's wrist.  
"That's the best that I can do right now." Joly said with a sigh.  
Jehan nodded and sighed, leaning against Courfeyrac.  
Courfeyrac ran his fingers through Jehan's hair, it has always calmed him and probably always will.  
They all sat in silence, and heard water dripping down the stone walls.  
"Is this how the rest of our lives will play out?" Jehan said, his voice shaking slightly.  
"Probably," Joly said, to tired to lie and say that everything would be alright when everyone in the damn room knew that it wasn't going to be, so why lie?  
Joly felt tears stinging in his eyes, "I don't want to be the last to die, watching all of my friends die, I just..."  
He was sobbing now, he hadn't slept well in a long time and hadn't had much to eat or drink in a long time and was watching everyone he loved die and his world was crashing down around him. He didn't know how much longer he could take this.  
Combeferre awkwardly hugged him, "I think you should get some rest mate."  
"Why bother? We're all doomed anyways!"  
"Please, if not for your own sake then for the rest of ours."  
Joly sighed, he laid his head down on Combeferre's leg and fell rather quickly to sleep.  
******  
Later, Joly woke up not from any noise or movement really, but he just woke up.  
It was just the four of them still.  
Nothing had changed.  
He sighed, wondering how long he had been sleeping.  
"Feel any better?" Combeferre said in a hushed tone.  
"I guess," Joly said with a shrug.  
"Be quieter," Combeferre whispered. "Courfeyrac and Jehan are sleeping."  
Joly looked over at Courfeyrac and Jehan, their bodies tangled together, snuggling close to each other.  
He was hoping that they wouldn't suffer the same fate as Enjolras and Grantaire, watching one another die, but he knew that it would probably happen anyways.  
Combeferre and him sat in silence, just watching the two men sleep, bodies tangled in a way that you couldn't see were one ended and the other began.  
"Sometimes I wish that I had someone," Combeferre said. "I mean, Enjolras had Grantaire, Marius had Cosette, those two have each other, you had Bossuet and Musichetta. I had no one it seems."  
Joly didn't say a word, not knowing what to say.  
But just before he was about to reply, they heard footsteps coming down the hall.  
They exchanged looks before waking up the two men, not wanting the guards or the man to see them like this, for sure that they would watch each other die if they did.  
The guards came and opened Joly and Combeferre's cell door, "Come 'ere." One of the guards said, looking and motioning at Joly.  
With shaky legs, Joly got up, trying to hold his head high, and walked out the door.  
They cuffed his hands behind his back, tightening them a little too tight, probably on purpose.  
They slammed the cell door shut and the man looked at Joly.  
"Well, well, well, what have we got here? You must be the medic, the one they call Joly."  
Joly nodded slowly, looking the man straight in the face.  
"I've thought long and hard about what I'm going to do with you, and I've come to a conclusion."  
"Oh, and what's that?" Joly said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.  
"Got a mouth on this one, I see." The man said with a chuckle before swinging a baton at the back of Joly's knees. Joly feel down to his knees, Combeferre was now standing at the front of his cell, along with Courfeyrac and Jehan in the next.  
The man circled Joly like a vulture would circle a dead carcass. "There, that's better. Now, I wanted to make sure your friends get to watch as well, wouldn't want them to feel left out, now would we?"  
"Now, it'd be a shame if they had to miss out." Joly said, a small smirk playing at his lips.  
The guard pursed his lips and hit Joly's forehead with the baton with a loud smack. Joly toppled over, his cheek hitting the hard ground.  
"I would say we should work on that mouth of yours, but we are going to kill you anyways, so it's not like it matters really."  
"Glad we cleared that up." Joly said through clenched teeth.  
The man looked over at one of the guards, nodding at him. The guard put a noose up next to the wall that was opposite to the cells.  
"Oh, hanging, how original!" Joly said, smiling at the man.  
"I'm done with you and your mouth." The man said as the guard put a chair underneath the rope.  
The man roughly pulled Joly up and forced him up on the chair. The guards put the rope around his neck and pulled it tight, making sure he couldn't slip out.  
"Anything else you would like to say?"  
"Liberty for France?"  
The man chuckled, "Famous last words if you were ever to become famous."  
The second guard kicked the chair out from under Joly, his feet dangling mere inches off the ground.  
Joly kicked and squirmed, the rope digging into his skin. He felt like a fish out of water, flopping helplessly on the deck, not being able to breath.  
He felt warmth around his neck, realizing that he had dug into his neck with the rope.  
His lungs were on fire, he saw spots in his vision. But the spots didn't cover his friends, standing by and helplessly watching the scene unfold.  
Combeferre's hands reached out of the cell bars, trying desperately to do anything for his helpless friend.  
Joly wished he had enough breath to talk, to tell his friend that it was alright, the end was inevitable. Maybe this way he wouldn't die from some disease, like he had so often feared in life.  
It was weird for him to already think of himself as dead, because he wasn't yet.  
But it felt like he was.  
But his other friends were already waiting for him on the other side.  
Slowly, he felt his body give out.  
His vision went black.  
And it was finally all over.


	6. Part 5: Combeferre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of an alternative ending to Les Miserables. The surviving barricade boys are sent to a French Prison and tortured until they surrender. (By the way, this is part 5, about Combeferre, there will be a chapter for each featured character and a short outro)

Combeferre didn't know what do when he saw the chair being kicked out from under Joly.  
He was almost struck mute by it.  
He was frozen, glued to the spot.  
When he finally was out of his daze, he reached his hands through the bars, hoping that he could, by some miracle, reach him, help him.  
But of course he couldn't.  
Soon, Joly stopped moving, his dead eyes staring back at Combeferre, his body swaying slightly.  
The man smiled to himself, then looked over at Combeferre, "We'll be back for you tomorrow."  
The man turned on his heel and walked away, the two guards walking behind him.  
Jehan was staring wide eyed at Joly, absolutely terrified. He looked almost liked a puppy that had been kicked.  
Combeferre looked away, not being able to see him so sad and scared.  
Courfeyrac wrapped his arms around Jehan, trying to make him feel better, but knowing that it wouldn't help either of them. He was probably doing it for his own sake.  
Combeferre walked around his cell, it was the same cell as before, but it felt so much bigger now. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.  
No one spoke, only silence filled the room as Joly's dead body swung slowly back and forth on the rope, roping making a small creaking noise.  
"Now what?" Jehan sniffled, Combeferre didn't realize that he had started crying in the first place. It made him feel guilty, but he didn't know why.  
"I...I don't know." Combeferre said, sitting down on the floor, leaning his head against the cold stone wall.  
Jehan sighed and was about to say something, but Courfeyrac put his arms around him, shushing him with a gentle kiss to his temple.  
"I don't want to be in charge of us. I can't...I just..." Combeferre said, "I was never a leader."  
"We know, Combeferre, we know..." Courfeyrac said, rubbing his hand on Jehan's back soothingly.  
Jehan was folded and snuggled against Courfeyrac's chest, undoubtedly listening to his heartbeat.  
Combeferre wanted to sleep, but he knew that he couldn't.  
Not with Joly watching at least.  
He sighed and sat in the corner of the room, staring at the wall, not wanting the others to see him cry.  
******  
Several hours later (whose knows how many) Combeferre turned around, his body stiff and sore.  
His lips were so dry, he tried licking his lips, but his mouth was so dry, it made no difference.  
He groaned and rubbed his eyes, looking over at his friends, still sitting the same as he had last saw them. But now Courfeyrac was slowly rocking Jehan back and forth, like a baby.  
Combeferre smiled slightly at the scene.  
Then he heard footsteps, and he knew that they had to be torn apart.  
He reached over in the bars, getting Courfeyrac's attention, who gently put Jehan on the floor.  
The man and the two guards came walking around the corner, heads held high, smirks playing at the two guards mouths.  
"How does it feel to be the last three remaining?" The man said.  
The three of them remained silent.  
"Oh, I see," The man said. He nodded at one of the guards, whom opened the cell door. Combeferre was dragged out of the cell, his feet scuffing against the floor.  
The guard held Combeferre by his shoulder, holding him up. Combeferre looked at the man in the eye. They looked at each other for a minute before the man said, "Go get your friend down."  
Combeferre gulped and walked shakily over to Joly's dangling body. He stood on the tips of his toes and undid the rope around Joly's neck, catching his body.  
"And the rope." Combeferre sighed and set Joly down on the floor and reached up as far as he could to get the rope down.  
"Put it back on his neck, come on." Combeferre clenched his teeth but did as he was told.  
He put the noose back how it was on Joly's neck and looked back at the man.  
"Pick him up and follow me." Combeferre did as he was told, looking one final time at Courfeyrac and Jehan before walking around a corner and out of sight.  
After a few minutes of walking, they made it outside. They kept walking and the man stopped in front of a lake.  
Combeferre felt like there was a hole in the pit of his stomach.  
"Cuff him." The man said to a guard. The guard came over and put a pair of handcuffs on Combeferre wrist after Combeferre had set Joly down.  
The other guard tied the other end from the rope around Joly's neck around Combeferre's ankles, tying them together.  
Combeferre lost his balance and fell over, receiving laughter from the two guards.  
"I don't feel like teasing this one, just toss him in." The man said in a bored tone, examining his fingernails.  
One guard grabbed Combeferre, the other grabbed Joly.  
Combeferre was panicking already, struggling in the guards arms. The guard simply laughed and then held Combeferre under his arms, while the other guard held Joly by his feet. They looked at each other and swung the two men, after the third time, they released.  
Combeferre and Joly flew through the air for what felt like a lifetime before hitting the water.  
The water was freezing cold and shocked Combeferre.  
He started to panic even worse than before.  
He struggled, trying to get out of his bindings so he could swim to the surface and get air.  
He was holding his breath, but he let it out because of how bad his lungs burned.  
He tried to suck air back in, but only got a mouthful of murky lake water.  
He was sinking faster now, it seemed, he could barely see the light through the water now.  
Soon enough, he felt a sort of bucking feeling as Joly's body hit the bottom of the lake.  
His throat hurt from the water going down it, he felt his lungs being filled with water, he was screaming under the water, but no one could hear him.  
Not from down here.  
His body felt heavy, his back laying down on the sand on the bottom of the lake.  
He looked up at the very faint light above him.  
Soon enough, he would be with his other friends soon, but for now he was trapped at the bottom of a lake with Joly.  
This certainly wasn't how he imagined he would die.  
But does anybody ever die the way they imagine they will?  
Combeferre smiled a little before he felt a black blanket fall over him.  
His world turned black.


	7. Part 6: Jehan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of an alternative ending to Les Miserables. The surviving barricade boys are sent to a French Prison and tortured until they surrender. (By the way, this is part 6, about Jehan, there will be a chapter for each featured character and a short outro)

Jehan stared at his throbbing hand. It was broken and swollen, but that was his own fault.  
He really shouldn't have punched that wall.  
He sighed, glancing over at Courfeyrac, who had a thousand yard stare.  
It was so different now, just the two of them.  
"Courf,"  
"Hmm,"  
"What, what's gonna happen now?"  
"I wish I knew Jehan, I wish I knew."  
His voice trailed off and they were surrounded by the deafening silence around them.  
"Do you, do you think that they are going to feed us? Or are they going to let us starve?"  
"Damn it Jehan, do you honestly think that I know?"  
"I, I-"  
"I don't know what's going to happen Jehan! I don't know a god damn thing! If I knew, then no one would be dead instead of everyone we know and care about dying!"  
Courfeyrac was practically screaming at him now. Jehan felt tears pricking at his eyes.  
"Courf, calm down, I-"  
"How on earth do you expect me to calm down? Everyone I ever cared about is dead!"  
"What, what about me?" Jehan cried. "Don't you care about me?"  
Courfeyrac suddenly realized what he had said. "Jehan, I didn't mean that, you know that."  
"Do I? You do mean it!"  
"Jehan,"  
"Leave me alone!" Jehan screamed at him, his face red and covered with tears.  
Jehan curled up in a corner in the cell, crying and trying to be quiet, but since the room was so silent, he sounded loud.  
Several minutes passed before Courfeyrac spoke;  
"She is standing on my eyelids  
And her hair is wound in mine,  
She has the form of my hands,  
She has the colour of my eyes,  
She is swallowed by my shadow  
Like a stone against the sky.  
Her eyes are always open  
And will not let me sleep.  
Her dreams in broad daylight  
Make the suns evaporate  
Make me laugh, cry and laugh,  
Speak with nothing to say."  
He laughed a little, a dark laugh. "I know I'm not good at the whole 'poetry' thing, but I remember that one is one of your favorites."  
Jehan stayed silent, lips pursed and stared at the wall.  
"You know, I'm surprised that you didn't ever change the 'shes' in it to 'hes' to be honest."  
Jehan glanced up at him, a small smile on his face. "Thank you for trying to make me feel better, but we are going to die in the building anyways, so it doesn't really matter how I feel anymore."  
Courfeyrac sighed and sat down beside Jehan. He didn't say a word, he just wrapped an arm around Jehan.  
Jehan buried his face in Courfeyrac's neck and cried. "We're going to die."  
"Yeah, we are."  
They sat in silence, not really soaking up the fact that they were going to die, because they had let that sink in a while ago, almost as soon as they walked in this building.  
Suddenly, a guard walked by, tossing down a little bowl full of a cold brown broth with a moldy piece of bread on the side.  
"Eat up." The guard grumbled, walking away almost as quickly as he had shown up.  
The two men slowly went over to the bowl, Courfeyrac looked at Jehan and said, "You can have the soup thing. I'll have the bread."  
"Are you sure? We can share."  
"No, it's fine, I promise."  
Jehan nodded, not debating the topic any further. He picked the bowl and drank the bowlful, as not much else was in it but the broth itself.  
Courfeyrac had shoved the entire piece of bread in his mouth and swallowed.  
They looked at each other, when suddenly, Jehan's pupils practically exploded and he fell over, choking on air it seemed.  
Courfeyrac panicked and grabbed Jehan, "Jehan, Jehan, what's happening? Jehan? Jehan!"  
He shaking, and didn't seem to be choking anymore, but didn't look so great.  
His body was shaking and he seemed to suddenly be very tired.  
Suddenly, the man walked around the corner, a wide smirk on his face. "Did I forget to mention the special ingredient in your meal?"  
Courfeyrac gasped.  
They had poisoned Jehan.  
Jehan looked up at him with terrified, yet accepting eyes.  
"We shall have beds full of subtle perfumes,  
Divans as deep as graves, and on the shelves  
Will be strange flowers that blossomed for us  
Under more beautiful heavens.  
Using their dying flames emulously,  
Our two hearts will be two immense torches  
Which will reflect their double light  
In our two souls, those twin mirrors.  
Some evening made of rose and of mystical blue  
A single flash will pass between us  
Like a long sob, charged with farewells;  
And later an Angel, setting the doors ajar,  
Faithful and joyous, will come to revive  
The tarnished mirrors, the extinguished flames."  
Jehan said, a small smile on his face.  
Tears fell down both men's faces, happy ones from Jehan, ones of pain from Courfeyrac.  
Jehan closed his eyes slowly, still smiling and just as soon as it had started,  
Jehan ended.


	8. Part 7: Courfeyrac

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of an alternative ending to Les Miserables. The surviving barricade boys are sent to a French Prison and tortured until they surrender. (By the way, this is part 7, about Courfeyrac, there will be a chapter for each featured character and a short outro)

Courfeyrac was still screaming when the guards pulled him off Jehan.  
They tossed Courfeyrac aside like he was nothing and one picked up Jehan, tossing him carelessly over his shoulder and exiting the cell. The other guard kicked Courfeyrac painfully in the stomach in a feeble attempt to silence him. But oh-so-obviously, that didn't work.  
The last guard slammed the cell door shut. Courfeyrac, still struggling to regain his breath, ran at the cell door, screaming and banging his fist on the cell door until his throat was raw and his fist were mangled and bleeding, and even then he didn't stop.  
Hours later, he had lost his voice and hands were unrecognizable, bloody, bruised and broken.  
He laid down on the cold floor, crying silently.   
One of the guards came by, shoving a small plate of food at Courfeyrac's shaking frame.  
He didn't eat.  
Or drink for that matter.  
He didn't do much of anything for the next few days.  
Losing his friends was hard enough, but then they took his Jehan away from him.  
He could cope with that.  
On the 5th day of this, he finally ate something, drinking a small amount of water.  
He began to think of an escape, no, better than an escape.  
He began to think of a way to seek revenge on The Man and his guards.  
Sadistic thoughts went through his mind all hours of the day.  
He was truly a changed man.  
All he thought of was that man's blood on his hands.  
But then it began to set in, killing those men, wouldn't bring anyone back.  
It wouldn't change a damn thing.  
So he thought of ways to kill himself.  
All sorts of ways, he thought, the possibilities were truly endless.  
But then, The Man finally reappeared after his long time of solitude.  
"Having fun, lone solider?" He said, leaning against a stone door frame near Courfeyrac's cell.  
"A blast." Courfeyrac said, a fire blazing in his eyes.  
A smirk played at The Man lips, "Fun is our goal."  
The Man then slid a gun towards Courfeyrac. "Now, I will give you two options,"  
"I'm listening continue," Courfeyrac said, arms folded across his chest.  
"You can either shoot me, or shoot yourself, you win either way."  
Without hesitating, Courfeyrac picked up the gun, and noticed only one bullet was in it.  
"I know how you think Courfeyrac, did you honestly think I'd give you two bullets?"  
Courfeyrac raised the gun at The Man, "Shut up, you don't know a thing about me."  
"Oh, don't I-" The Man was cut off by a loud gunshot, Courfeyrac shot a bullet through his The Man's head.  
Courfeyrac was shaking, this didn't feel as good as he thought it would be.  
He dropped the gun and turned to the wall, smashing his head against it so hard, he felt his teeth rattle. He hit his head on the wall over and over again.  
"I'll see you guys soon..." He mumbled.  
After the 6th hit, he fell to the ground, blood gushing from his skull, he laid down and waited to finally fall asleep.  
He opened his eyes to see all of his friends in front of him, "It's good to see you, Courf,"


End file.
